the man i used to know
by Restless5oul
Summary: steve is searching high and low for his long lost friend, but when he does find him he discovers that perhaps the man he used to know is long gone. post ca:tws. slight steve/bucky if you squint. rated t for hints of ptsd.


_**A/N: So after seeing The Winter Soldier it's entirely fair to say I'm obsessed with all things Captain America. I wrote this just for my own enjoyment, heck! I haven't even checked it through properly. But I hope you like it anyway.**_

It only took two months before Steve and Sam caught up with Bucky. It seemed that despite the fact that most of HYDRA had disappeared he was intent on running from them, leaving a trail of chaos in his wake. His run in with the police in NYC attracted rather a lot of attention; speculation from the media and public about whether or not this man with the metal arm was friend or foe. It had taken much persuasion to subdue the armed forces that had surrounded the Winter Soldier, though once Steve had pacified them it allowed Sam to (literally) swoop in and take Bucky to their predetermined place of safety; the Stark Tower. Or as it had now been informally dubbed; the Avengers Tower.

Originally Tony had been against turning his second home into what he called; 'a rescue shelter for your old army pals' but Steve had explained what had happened to his friend, what he had been through and how he was sure that he could bring him back from the decades of brainwashing and god knows what else. Tony's proud reluctance soon dissipated and he agreed. That was weeks ago and since then the tower had turned from his own personal playpen into a kind of base for the Avengers. Bruce had taken up a permanent residence alongside Tony and Pepper, Natasha came and went infrequently, seeming to enjoy that she was welcome but preferring not to stay for too long. Clint was of a similar attitude, though his disappearances were more sudden and he often went without a word to anyone (apart from Natasha usually). Even Thor had graced them with their presence once; he had taken leave from Asgard apparently.

But it was Steve who didn't seem to be able to find the time to stay there for more than a few hours at a time, his need to find Bucky quickly grew into a kind of obsession. He was so sure that his old friend was in there somewhere, and he felt so sure that it was him who had pulled him out of the river. If he could only remind his friend of whom he had been and what he had done then maybe, just maybe, he could pull him from the wreckage he was buried in.

Steve reached the floor where the makeshift hospital was situated just as Sam was placing Bucky onto the bed. Through the glass of the window Steve could see just how badly the last two months had treated him. His hair which had already been long and straggly was now tangled and matted with blood and dirt, the purple rings lined his eyes blended in with the bruises upon his face but that didn't seem to detract from the vacant look in his eyes, the sense of looking yet not really seeing. The only sign that he was aware of himself or his surroundings was the grunt of pain he gave when he hit the bed. Now that Steve looked closer he did seem to be holding his body in an awkward position and he had his jaw clenched tight in obvious discomfort. Some of the sense of reality seemed to be returning to his eyes.

"You got him?" out of the corner of his eye he saw a head appear at his elbow. He looked down to see Natasha stood beside him, looking through the glass at Bucky and Sam.

"Mhm," Steve nodded continuing the stare through the window, "He was in the city. Fighting it out with the police."

"I'll let Tony and Bruce know," she said, turning away from the window and heading to a telecommunications device that was on the wall by the elevator. Tony and Bruce turned up a few minutes later and headed straight into the room, Bruce hung back a little opting to look at the machines rather than approach the soldier, which was probably a smart move on his part. Tony however immediately picked up a syringe and injected Bucky with whatever what within it.

No sooner had the needle pierced his skin Bucky swung his metal arm out so that he hit Tony straight across the face with a loud crunch sending him flying a few feet backwards. Sam and Bruce both instinctively took a step back as Bucky tried to haul himself out of his bed and throw himself at them. But the thing that Tony had injected him with must have been a sedative because his legs gave way forcing him back down onto the bed until he hit the unyielding surface with a _thump_, his eyes falling shut, and his face expressionless.

"Guy could give Banner a run for his money," Natasha remarked, obviously joking. But what had just happened had struck a chord with Steve. The attack had been so unwarranted and he might have almost thought that he had been taught that any sign of aggression should be combated with a violent retaliation. But the look in his eyes was the closest to human it had been since Steve had found him again. Hauntingly it reminded him of when Steve had rescued Bucky from the HYDRA factory all those years ago.

Forcing himself to look away from his now slumbering friend he turned away from the window and started to march towards the elevator.

"Steve!" Natasha called to him but he didn't look back.

He retreated back to the room he had adopted as his own trying to rid his mind of the repetitive images of his friend, if he could still refer to him as that. All he could see was the broken man lying downstairs. A sudden fear gripped him that he might not be able to remember the man he had once looked up to, joked with and spent most of his life with. His Bucky was hardly recognisable under the bruises, matted hair and vacant eyes.

Perhaps an hour or so later there was a knock on his door.

"Yes?" he said, his voice a slightly croaky, his throat feeling dry.

"It's Sam Cap," the voice of his fairly new friend floated in from beyond the door. Steve did not move to open the door but fell back onto his bed. Sam seemed to realise that he was not going to be let in, "He's awake."

Steve did not need elaboration on who 'he' was.

"Is he okay?" the question escaped his mouth before he could stop it. But he needed to know. If he was going to come downstairs to find the empty shell of his previous friend staring back at him then he wasn't so sure that he wanted to leave the room.

"He's…better," there was hesitation in Sam's voice but truth rang through his words. Toying with the decision after a few moments deliberation Steve got up off the bed and opened the door to reveal Sam leaning against the door frame, almost falling over when the door opened.

Without a word he set off down the corridor, clearly indicating that he should follow. Steve followed him into the elevator and down to the floor where the makeshift hospital was. He caught sight of Bucky before the doors had even opened fully. Truth be told he did look slightly better, more alert and aware. But his eyes darted around the room quickly and at regular intervals as though he expected someone to be standing in each corner every time he looked. He eyed Tony was a clear amount of suspicion, flinching a little if he came too close or move to suddenly. Clearly the incident with the sedative had not put him at ease.

Sam left Steve at the doorway and let him enter alone. As soon as he stepped one foot over the threshold Bucky's eyes flickered to him, there was a flash of malice that was replaced with confusion and perhaps a hint of recognition. But that could just be wishful thinking.

"I know you," he said, sounding like he was accusing Steve. But he didn't feel insulted or threatened; in fact he felt his heart lift a little. Perhaps there was a chance he could remember.

"I should hope so," Tony muttered a little, quietly enough so Steve could hear him. And by the looks of it Bucky hadn't heard, "Look Steve, we already have one ticking time bomb we don't need another."

"He's not a ticking time bomb," Steve flared up a little, speaking through gritted teeth.

"Look at him," Tony nodded his head in Bucky's direction. Steve opened his mouth to retort but Tony cut across him, "No I get it. He's been brainwashed so many times I'm even surprised he still knows how to walk and talk but I'm telling you this, if this is a lost cause-"

"He's not a lost cause," Steve shook his head adamantly, "Trust me."

Tony gave him one last sceptical look before leaving the room.

"Where am I?" Bucky asked his voice short and clipped. Not at all like his charming, easy-going usual self.

"Uh, headquarters I guess. We call it Avengers Tower," there was another flash of recognition in Bucky's eyes.

"The Avengers," there was aggression in his voice, almost like hatred, "Why am I here?"

He looked up at Steve, none of the friendliness in his eyes that he was used to. And Steve did not have an answer for this question, he didn't want to confuse of frighten him with too much information in one go. He opened his mouth, closed it again and then looked down at his feet.

"Who am I?" this question was unlike the others, it was a whisper, filled with fear, the first signs of uncertainty creeping in.

"You are James Buchanan Barnes, or Bucky. You've been my best friend since we were five and you stopped some kid picking on me in class. You socked him right in the jaw. And ever since then you've been finishing my fights for me when I refused to back down. That was until you went away to war and I became well…this. Then I didn't need you to protect me anymore but we fought together. And I thought…I thought you died back in the war. But HYDRA had done something to you and you didn't die even though you fell hundreds of feet. They took you and turned you into a super soldier, they made you forget everything and everyone you knew," Steve stopped himself, he had been rambling and he knew it. He looked at Bucky warily, worried the overload of information would panic him. There were several moments of silence as Bucky processed what he had just heard.

"I-I…don't remember. I feel like I should remember, but I don't," he was staring down at his hands, one flesh and one metal, like he'd never seen them before in his life. And Steve couldn't tell whether that was good or bad. Either way he had stopped looking around the room like someone was going to jump out at him at any given moment. So the sense of imminent danger seemed to have left him.

"It's okay," Steve assured him sounding more confident than he felt, "You should know that HYDRA is finished, over. They're not coming back."

He had thought Bucky already knew this but his looked up in shock, an expression of fear appearing on his face.

"After every mission," he spoke in a high pitched whisper, his voice suddenly hysterical and deranged, "they would strap me down in that chair. They would make me forget, but it hurt to forget, it felt like my head was on fire and my body was turning to ice."

He told Steve like he was desperate for him to believe him.

"And when I woke up I'd do another awful thing and then they'd do it all over again. It never stopped, just pain and then nothing."

He placed his head in his hands, running his fingers across his face. His voice was now so quiet that it was hard to hear.

"I didn't want to do it, I don't want to do it," he looked up at Steve again, "I can't remember what I did, but I didn't want to. I didn't mean to."

Steve realised that he was apologising for all the crimes he had attached to his name, asking for forgiveness for atrocities he couldn't remember.

"I believe you, honestly," Steve placed his hand on Bucky's shoulder. Despite the gut wrenching pity he felt there was another flicker of hope that remembering doing all these awful things was a sign that his memories were still locked inside his mind somewhere.

Bucky seemed to have exhausted his ability to communicate and he dropped his hands and started a deadpan stare at the wall opposite him. Looking at the back of his head he was barely recognisable to Steve, his Bucky had always kept his hair cut short, clean and his face didn't usually hold more than a trace of stubble. It was little habits and quirks that Steve missed, the things that made him who he was. The way he moved his hands when he spoke, the words he used and the way he walked.

Steve let his hand slide off Bucky's shoulder and began to walk out of the room.

"I need a haircut," the little mumble was barely audible from where Steve stood but he froze and turned his head to look at Bucky. He was still staring at the wall vacantly but his non-metal hand was running through his dirty hair.

"Tomorrow," Steve said, and even though he got no response from Bucky, he smiled.


End file.
